A Grief That Breathes
have you ever grieved for one
one that is alive & well
you are not grieving their body
no, you grieve their soul
you grieve for who they once
were
you long for what version
of them existed before the
evil
have you ever grieved a mother
a mother who is not dead but
gone, defeated
a mother who is so broken,
so broken that unrecognizable
because all she has seen
is evil
have you ever grieved a
father
a father who is not deceased
but gone
a father who is so beaten,
so tortured, and soul so dead
that he might as well be
because all he has battled
is evil
have you ever grieved for people
people that are still alive to tell a story
you are not grieving them
no, you are grieving their souls
that are lost, damaged
and ugly
because all they know is
evil
have you ever grieved your
people
Twelve Sixteen
I had a recurring dream
where I was taking an exam and
my teeth began falling out
while
my mouth filled with blood.
I stayed silent and held everything
in until the exam ended.
Afterward,
a girl noticed the red
the red stained around my mouth
then she asked
she asked if it was from sweet kisses
no sweet kisses for me
just the taste of iron
excusing myself
I finally opened my mouth
filled with crimson’s display
there poured proof
all the things
I tried to keep hidden
while she stood and watched
not with fear
not with any emotion, in fact
Ganijah Cannon
Ganijah Cannon is a senior at Rockhurst University, majoring in Marketing and International Business. She is a multidisciplinary creative whose work blends poetry, photography, and social advocacy, often exploring themes of identity, lived experience, and community. Her pieces are rooted in personal reflection while engaging with broader social conversations and perspectives. A fun fact about Ganijah is that she enjoys creating digital content and storytelling across platforms, from visual media to written work. Her submitted pieces reflect her interest in using art as a tool for expression, connection, and change.